


take me back

by magicasen



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Avengers Vol. 5 (2013), Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Multiverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 11:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicasen/pseuds/magicasen
Summary: Steve and Tony find themselves in another universe. There aren't any Avengers or a Stark Industries here, but there are other things they thought they'd lost.





	take me back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SirSapling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirSapling/gifts).



> Sneaking in just under the deadline for 616 Day! I'm so glad to celebrate my favorite Marvel verse and favorite version of Steve/Tony!
> 
> This was actually a WIP I started months back for the art-for-fic/fic-for-art challenge that Cap-Ironman hosted, but didn't finish in time. This art is inspired by an art piece by SirSapling. I linked it in the endnotes because it's a bit spoilery for the fic!
> 
> Anyway, have some Hickmanvengers fic! After everything, it's still my favorite Avengers run.

In that split second, there was no other choice Tony could have made.

The monster was gigantic, a cross between a snake for a head with a tree for its body. When it walked, painstakingly slow, thick roots spread across the street, toppling light poles and turning over cars.

There was a bright, orange orb in its forehead. When the Avengers' attacks bounced off its body harmlessly, Steve shouted the order to aim for the giant target in its head.

A full-body shudder overcame the creature when Clint's arrow caught it in the orb. The sound came like fire crackling, before the arrow exploded.

Like a felled giant, the monster toppled over, eyes still open, tongue lolling out. The now-darkened orb rolled out of its socket onto the street.

Steve reached the monster at the same time as Tony. They shared a look before Steve took a step forward.

The orb shot out, knocking into Steve's chest. It was glowing white now, and it dropped back onto the floor, and the light turned blinding.

“Steve! Get back!”

Even though there was an entire moon's worth of Worldkillers whose blood would be on his shoulders, even though there was a reminder in his palm of exactly how the fate of their Earth rested on his shoulders, it didn't matter.

He jumped on the orb, curling over it with his armor, stifling its light.

“ _Tony———!_ ”

* * *

“Steve!” Tony jolted up and slammed into the side of a dumpster. The armor let out a warning blare, before Tony sank back into the brick wall. His chest was heaving as he took stock of his surroundings.

He was in the middle of an alleyway. It was still daytime. The area wasn't evacuated, judging from the honks of cars and the bustle of city life.

“Tony?” Steve swayed a bit as he stood up from the other side of the dumpster.

“Steve.” Tony didn't know what about him, behind the mask of the armor and years of well-trained duplicity, signaled anything to Steve, but Steve came over and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked. 

The rush of post-battle adrenaline may have been hampering Tony's bodily awareness, but he felt much better than he had before he'd jumped on the orb.

“Yeah,” Tony replied. “A bit shaken, not stirred.”

“Good. That's not letting you off of our discussion about you about jumping on mysterious objects of unknown origin.” Steve stepped back and looked around. “But first things first. Did that orb teleport us?”

Obviously it had, but Tony's readings gave him pause. He would have thought hat the orb had fried his systems, somehow, but his sensors still worked. But the uplink to any Stark satellites were down, endless pings disappearing into the ether. Even his not entirely legal backdoors into SHIELD systems weren't giving him any responses.

“Manhattan,” Tony said, slowly, feeling more and more vulnerable as the seconds passed. He resorted to more manual measures to confirm his suspicions. “But not ours.”

The multiverse. Tony hoped, could have prayed, that this had nothing to do with the incursions, but hope really didn't count for much these days.

Steve grunted in non-surprise, rolling his shoulders back. “Well, let's hope this world is welcoming to visitors.”

“What's with all this racket back here!?” The door next to them opened, and a middle-aged man in an apron glared at them.

“You two some of those wanna-be superheroes? The hell, don't use my alleyway to change into your get-ups. Have some decency!”

The door slammed shut before Steve and Tony had a chance to respond.

“I suppose whatever Manhattan this is doesn't have an Iron Man or Captain America,” Tony tried as they stared at the door.

“As long as they have an Avengers, we'll be fine.”

 

People were staring as they walked down the street side-by-side with pedestrian traffic. Tony wondered why this universe's team of superheroes hadn't come to pick them up yet. Multiversal visitors weren't exactly easy to miss.

Tony turned to say something about it to Steve, only to find him stopped dead in his tracks a few feet back. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.

“Steve?” Tony asked, following his gaze.

He followed Steve's eyes to an older woman waiting for the crosswalk. She was in her fifties or a graceful sixty, with her blonde hair greying at the temples. She paused to look over at them, gaze alert and curious. Tony could have sworn he'd seen her somewhere, or someone very close to her. She had eyes that stuck with you.

Steve pulled back his cowl. Even more people were staring now, some in appreciation and some in wariness of the superhero unmasking himself. Tony didn't blame any of them.

Steve was struggling to speak—Tony watched his Adam's apple bob a few times before he finally spoke.

“Ma?”

It was impossible. Sarah Rogers would be twice the age of this woman even if she had lived to the modern era in this universe.

But the pieces began to fall into place. The armor began identifying her facial structure and comparing it to Steve's. Tony didn't need it to tell him though.

Her eyes were fixed on Steve's, and that was it, wasn't it? That look of conviction, whether it was against dictators or supervillains or strange armored men, was unmistakable.

“Steve?” she said. By now, most of the onlookers had lost interest as the light turned green. She didn't follow them walking over to them slowly. “Steven Rogers, is that you?”

“Yes. It's me, Ma.”

Tony looked sharply at Steve, who was smiling in disbelief, eyes wet.

Sarah stood in front of them, back straight as she searched Steve's expression. Her control was as tight as her son's. Her hand went to her mouth to hide her gasp.

“That's impossible,” she said, and she reached up, fingers framing his cheeks. The tears in her eyes matched Steve's. “I don't believe it.”

“Ma,” Steve said, and his voice broke. He glanced down, blinking hard, breathing heavily by now. She shushed him.

“It's okay,” she told him, and brought him in for a hug. Steve's shoulders shook as she rubbed his back.

Steve dwarfed her in size, but in that moment, he looked as small as a child.

* * *

After he'd manually removed the armor and left it in the bedroom, Tony took the opportunity to peer through the living room. It wasn't snooping, he told himself, as the noise of dishes clattering and chattering drifted from the kitchen.

There were, after all, plenty of framed photographs for display along the walls and across shelves. Most of them were of Sarah and her son. Not snooping, but definitely an invasion of privacy.

It was a timeline, beginning with a happy family with a toddler being held in his father's arms, a birthday party, a day out on the lake. The man was absent in the later photos, of a scrawny little kid in an oversized football uniform, a lanky teenager with a wide, toothy smile, and sometime before high school graduation his body caught up, filling out his football uniform and, later, the graduation gown.

The most recent photograph was Steve Rogers in an Army uniform with a fellow soldier. The soldier was beaming at the camera, but Steve had eyes for nothing but his friend, a small, tender smile on his face. It was too intimate for someone like Tony to gaze upon. He felt like a terrible person.

They shouldn't have come here. Multiverse travel wasn't as potentially catastrophic as many things they did, but what-ifs made everything more than probability and possibility. What-ifs didn't leave you. What-ifs consumed you. The worlds where things had turned out badly made him guilty, and the worlds where they'd turned out better were worse.

Tony spun around at a sound of a throat clearing. Sarah Rogers held up a hand. Tony was distinctly aware that this was the first time he'd seen her face-to-face without the armor in-between them.

“He insisted on getting the treats ready,” she told him as he glanced around for Steve. “He...no, not him.” She gestured at the photograph Tony had been looking at. “My son was killed in action. Over a decade ago, in Afghanistan.” She walked by Tony, picking up the frame. “He jumped on a grenade to save the rest of his squad. Received a Medal of Honor for it. I remember the day the officer came to the building entrance downstairs. I nearly didn't let him come up.”

There was a long silence. “I'm so sorry.”

“Superheroes,” she said. “Right? It's a dangerous job. But it's only because of it that you were able to come here to...our world.”

Tony remembered how Steve had introduced him to her, _Tony Stark, a good friend of mine._ He wondered if she had filled in a few blanks there, from the way she looked from him to the photo of Steve and his soldier, and smiled tenderly.

God, Tony didn't deserve this. Not when he was a traitor. Not when the only reason Steve could stand to look at him was because Tony had wiped his mind. He felt sick, suddenly, ready to throw up.

“It is dangerous, but we have each other.” Steve made his entrance then, carrying a tray of crackers and cheese and dip. 

“Still, with just the two of you?” Sarah sat down on the couch. Steve took a seat next to her, and she patted him on the knee as he scooted closer to her. Tony remained standing in the corner of the room.

Steve held onto her hand, and she looked like his whole world. Tony should have known that Steve was a clingy mama's boy, and a lump formed in his throat at the scene. Suddenly, Tony missed his own mother more than he had in years.

“The two of us?” Steve chuckled. “No, no, we have the Avengers with us.”

“Ah. Is that your squad name?”

Steve looked up at Tony for the first time since they'd met Sarah, frowning.

“It's our team. Perhaps they're called something else in this world?” Steve asked.

“The Ultimates?” Tony offered.

“I can't say I've heard of any team like that. All superheroes, I assume?”

“This world doesn't have an Avengers team?” Tony asked again. “What do you do when you face world-wide threats?”

“I suppose the government must have some superheroes,” Sarah said. “Obviously civilians aren't privy to all the details. There's the Fantastic Four and the X-Men, as well.”

“That's it?” Steve frowned. “But there are plenty of superheroes that aren't mutants, or Richardses.”

“There are many of them who work alone, true. Spider-Man, and Daredevil, although the media isn't so kind with them.” Sarah seemed taken aback at Steve and Tony's bewilderment.

“But no team to train superheroes that aren't mutants that's not controlled by government interests?” Tony insisted.

“No, not that I've ever heard of. I assume it's not a good thing?”

Steve stood up, sighing. “I'm sorry, but I think it's about time we contact the Reed Richards of this world.”

* * *

“You must be quite big names in your world, if you have Mister Fantastic on call like that,” Sarah had said at the door to her apartment.

Steve shrugged, but his face was turned, and he was blinking too much.

“I'm less surprised than I thought I'd be,” she said. “I'm grateful, though, that in another world my son is happy.” She looked at Tony and smiled. Tony wished she could have hated him. “I'm so happy I could meet you,” she said, and she reached out and touched her fingertips to Steve's cheeks. “If you find a way back to your world, come say goodbye first, okay? I'll have your favorite stew waiting for you.”

Steve didn't nod. You couldn't make promises like that, not in their business. Sarah had sensed it too, and she let her fingers trail down Steve's face before stepping back.

“I'm proud of you, Steve.”

* * *

Steve, ever the stolid one, couldn't stop fidgeting. He rocked back from one foot to the other, and kept glancing over at Tony from the corner of his eye.

It was even more awkward for Steve than it was for Tony, Tony was sure. No one else they knew really understand what Steve Rogers's mother meant to him. In the moment on the street, Steve had eyes for no one else other than her, but after the fact...Tony should have excused himself and left them alone.

As the elevator opened, Steve turned to him.

“Out of everyone that could have met her, I'm glad it was you.”

By the time Tony gathered himself enough to remember to respond, Steve was already walking out of the elevator into the common area of the Baxter Building.

People couldn't exactly walk into the lobby of Baxter Building and gain an audience with the Fantastic Four. Most people wouldn't bother, not with the building being a lightning rod for attacks, accidents, and every other sort of destruction.

People did, however, get noticed when they got past several layers of Reed's security systems. Tony had the benefit of working with Reed on the building defenses in their home universe, and while his personal touch was missing here, he understood enough of Reed's mindset to get much further than, he presumed, anyone else did.

An unamused Johnny Storm was waiting for them by the elevator.

“Hey, I don't know who you lot are, and _I_ think that we should be speaking with our fists instead. You're just lucky my brother-in-law is more forgiving than me. Reed's lab is this way.”

* * *

“Intriguing,” Reed said. “Anthony Edward Stark. Iron Man? And none of my records indicate any Howard Starks.”

“What about,” Tony hesitated, “a Maria Carbonell?”

Reed's fingers flew over the keyboard. “There's no one with that name either, as far as I can tell. Perhaps there were different marriages, a break in the timestream generations back, and neither of your parents were ever born. This is fascinating.” His eyes were bright. “Please, tell me more about your other teammates?”

“Yes, yes,” he said some minutes later. “I've heard of a Hank Pym and a Janet Van Dyne. I believe that they did take up the Giant-Man and Wasp mantle for a bit, but have long retired to civilian lives. As for Thor, we've had some encounters with the Asgardians, but not so often they could be considered for any superhero team. The Avengers, you called yourselves?”

Steve and Tony looked at each other.

“Yes,” Steve finally said.

There were worlds where they weren't superheroes, and worlds where they weren't even human. But a world without the Avengers felt the most impossible.

“I think that we're spending enough time ironing out the differences between our universes,” Tony finally cut into Reed's excitement, which was a hard thing to do. Not that he found it difficult to understand, but it was a rabbit hole they, or their Earth, didn't have the time for. “Can you help us get home?”

“Of course,” Reed said. “I've only done theoretical work on a bridge to other universes, but since I'm certain now they exist, it'll just be a matter of time.”

“Theoretical?” Steve frowned.

“Have you never had contact with other universes before now?” Tony asked.

“Not at all,” Reed said. “Your universe sounds like it had much more world-ending scenarios, so it's possible that your fields of knowledge expanded to fit those niches out of necessity.

“Have you had any strange readings lately?” Tony asked abruptly. “Not related to us, but anything at all?”

“None that I'm aware of,” Reed said.

Did this world not know about the incursions? That was impossible. From the data Tony had seen, it had caused changes that was impossible to ignore. The Infinity Gauntlet wasn't something you could ignore.

“Do you have the Infinity Gauntlet in this world? Thanos?”

Reed interlaced his fingers, and steepled his chin above them.

“They're responsible for...the creation of the universe. Of a sort.” Steve's eyebrows knitted. “Of our universe.”

Reed nodded slowly, like it was a rare nugget of new information to him. “Perhaps there are more differences that we anticipated.”

“Maybe not as many as we think,” Tony said. “But before we get into theoretical physics debate, let's take a look at the schematics for your bridge. I might have some ideas for you.”

* * *

“This is impossible,” Tony said. This universe was impossible. So many of his personal readings didn't work, which made sense, but what Reed showed him of this Earth didn't add up. None of Reed's research into the multiverse made any sense.

“Are we taking the wrong approach?” Tony asked. “It can't be just the issue of the multiverse.” He thought of the orange orb that'd brought them here, and the broken orange Time Gem that had left their Earth months ago.

“That's a thought,” Reed agreed when Tony told him his suspicions. “Perhaps we're not a parallel universe, but a parallel timestream, where the Avengers never existed.”

“So, a bridge to the multiverse won't work. What we need is a time machine,” Tony said, crossing his arms.

Reed immediately brightened.“Oh, well. I have plenty of those.”

* * *

Steve, accompanied by this world's Susan Richards, was soon back to check in on them. After they shared their findings with him, he hummed, kneading his forehead with his hand.

“It's not nearly the strangest thing the Avengers have ever dealt with. At least no one is actively trying to kill us here.”

“Well, there's one shared experience we have there,” Sue said with a laugh, as she went over next to her husband.

“I've been thinking,” Steve said, as they both watched them. “And, well, after talking it over with Sue. It's because of you.”

“I'm sorry?” Tony said, turning back to look at him.

“The Avengers don't exist, because you're not in this world,” Steve told him. “Isn't it obvious?”

There was a lump in Tony's throat, and Steve was looking at him like—like something he'd only seen in dreams, with wonder and disbelief. Like he couldn't believe of what Tony was capable of, just like Tony felt for him.

“That is a possibility, that Stark's absence, as your team's benefactor, precluded the Avengers from being formed,” Reed said, his head next to them while the rest of his body remained at his work station.

“No, it's not just that,” Steve said. “You'd understand if you knew him better. The Reed in our world respected Tony too. He's the one who gets—ideas, gets the cogs in the machine turning.” He turned his head, but Tony caught the last of a smile as he looked at the screen. “Your world is really missing out.”

“Well, having an extensive team would be a great idea,” Reed noted. “I'm not sure if our superhero network is that expansive.”

“What my husband is saying,” Sue said, tapping Reed's shoulder so that he retracted his head, “is that the Avengers didn't just spontaneously come out of nowhere.”

“To the contrary—”

“Actually—”

“You obviously thought it was a good idea since you have the Avengers.” Sue nodded at Reed. “We'll just need a leader. If either of you could have stuck around for longer, I'd ask you for advice, to help us out.”

Tony shrugged. “There've been a lot of team leaders over the years. From what you've told us, they're still around in the world. Just need that billionaire funding now.”

“Funding is important, but it's not the main thing. What you need, is someone to believe in heroes and the good they can do.” Steve was smiling at him. “Someone who believes in the future.”

Tony couldn't look at Steve, not anymore. He turned away without an answer.

“Now that we know what we're trying to accomplish,” Tony said lightly. “I think we just need time to modify Reed's time machine. Why...why don't you go call on your Ma again? I don't imagine we'll be done that quickly.”

Steve frowned. “It's not a good idea to hold onto the past.”

“It's not the past, not here. And I'm sure the FF of this world's great, but wouldn't you rather spend your last few hours here with her? Didn't she say to go back to her, before you left? The Captain America I know doesn't break a promise like that.”

Steve watched the screen. “You'll really be okay without me?”

“I'll be right here. I won't move.”

“I—” and for how stubborn he was, it didn't take long for him to give in.

“Thank you,” Steve said. Before Tony knew it, he was brought in for a brief hug, and Tony thought the breath had been knocked out of him.

* * *

When Tony finished his story, he set his set of tools on his lap, unable to continue.

For the first time since Tony had met him, Reed had nothing to contribute. He finally sat down, and he held a hand out for his water across the worktable, seeming to forget that he could have reached it if he wanted.

“Everything dies,” Reed said. “That's the natural conclusion of these incursions, isn't it? The destruction of the multiverse.”

“You believe me?” Tony said, clearing his throat and wishing he had his own water.

“The data from your armor seemed quite conclusive. To gather that much evidence for a ruse, and picking a story of that magnitude. It's counter-intuitive.” Reed shook his head. “And I may not have met you before today, but you feel like the type of person I could. I think Johnny would call it intuition.”

“I don't understand this universe. Even if it has to do with time bullshit, you've never had encounters with the multiverse, nor have you even noticed any strange readings. And they're not easy readings to ignore.”

“There are many possibilities yet to be examined,” Reed said. “I assume you've made your own theories.”

“We tried, but all we have to go on is the crazy chick who can't stop talking about how we all deserve this.”

“Right, this Black Swan you spoke of.” Reed nodded. “Does the Captain know of this?”

Tony looked around despite himself, but they were assuredly alone in the room.

“Steve...doesn't know.” Tony's mouth was dry. This Reed didn't need to know how he'd—how his other self had supported wiping Steve's memories. Had urged Tony on, because only Tony would hesitate between picking Steve Rogers and the rest of the world.

And this Reed couldn't be blamed. The Reed of Tony's world couldn't be blamed either. He had his family to think of, and a world to protect.

“Not many people know of the incursions, do they?” Reed asked.

“There's a few of us. A representative, from the most powerful countries or groups.”

Reed remained silent, and Tony didn't need his judgment even if it was deserved.

“These readings you've shown me. I'm not sure how I would have ever missed them. Is it possible, that because this isn't another universe, we aren't affected by the incursions either?” There was a tentative hope in Reed's words Tony didn't want to hear.

As awful as it was, Tony hadn't wanted to accept it, either. A different timeline without a trace of the incursions. A world without an Avengers world, and without a Tony Stark.

“It's possible,” Tony finally admitted, and it felt like a defeat.

* * *

When Steve came back, he seemed more cheerful than Tony had seen in a long time.

Steve had been happy lately in general, and why was it, when it was because of someone else, much less his _mother,_ Tony felt so much despair?

“You're done now?” Steve asked him.

“After we figured out that we weren't supposed to be looking at this like a multiversal problem, it wasn't so difficult.”

Steve laughed. “Of course it wasn't, not for you.”

He was too kind, and Tony couldn't stand it. He'd failed the Avengers. He'd failed Steve. They were supposed to help protect the world, and all that'd happened was its destruction, and the rest of the multiverse with it.

He walked out.

A few minutes later, staring at a blank wall in an empty hallway, Tony heard him. Sure-footed and steady, and Tony brought a hand up to his eyes, wiping away the tears there. Pathetic.

Steve found a place on the wall beside him, looking at the wall.

“I'm sorry,” Steve began. “It must be difficult, knowing that there's nothing of you—”

“Steve,” Tony interrupted. “Do you want to go home?”

“Yes.” The answer was immediate, and after a pause, Steve continued. “This world isn't so bad. But it's not home.”

Wasn't that how Steve viewed the future in the first place? And there was his mother, and an entire team that was out there, waiting for him to recruit and lead them.

“If we leave, we can't come back,” Tony told him. 

“Of course. We're not exactly in the habit of traveling between universes when we don't have to,” Steve said. 

“What about your mom?”

“It's a different universe.” Steve looked away, hair falling into his eyes, face shadowed. “She's not Ma. I'm not her son.”

“Did you know,” Tony said quietly, “I learned that I was adopted?”

Steve's attention was all on him, all at once.

“I learned he was my brother, but is that a bad thing? A new family, that I never knew I had?”

“Tony, what are you suggesting?” Steve asked. “I don't belong here. I belong with yo—with the Avengers. _Our_ Avengers. We have to go home.”

A universe unaffected by the incursions. Tony put his head in his hands, before sighing.

“We're ready,” Reed said, and Tony nearly jumped out of his skin. Steve smiled at him, before clapping a hand on Tony's shoulder.

“Give us a few minutes,” Tony told him, turning toward Steve. Steve looked sharply at him.

“I have to tell you something,” Tony said, his tongue like lead. “About our world. If we had any sense of self-preservation”—which they didn't, not in their line of work—“we wouldn't go back. There's a …situation waiting for us. It's not an easy one.”

Steve took a deep breath. “It's just like you, to keep this to yourself,” he finally said, and he was hurt, almost at anger, as he should be. “When will you learn that we can do this together?”

“You don't understand, Steve. We tried. We _tried_ to make this work. All of us, and the Illuminati, with the Infinity Gauntlet. You know, don't you? In your nightmares?” Because Steve had shared even though with Tony, like a secret, when it had just been the two of them at the epicenter of Avengers World.

And even though Stephen's memory spell should have wiped his memories clear, when Steve looked at him, the realization dawning on him, Tony realized he didn't need to say anymore for Steve to believe him. 

But he told him anyway, from the beginning, that first urgent communication from Wakanda, the tension in the air during their Quinjet ride there.

When they finished, Steve was breathing hard, like he'd run a marathon.

“You're joking,” Steve finally said, and neither of them believed it. “Why...why would you tell me this?”

In this world, Sarah Rogers was still alive, and even though both her and Steve would bristle at the thought, she was alone. In this world, the Avengers were just a fancy in someone's eye, but without someone with the drive to begin and lead them.

In this world, the Infinity Gems didn't exist, and even if Reed didn't believe in absolutes, it was the world safe from incursions.

“Tony, answer me! Is this...one of the Earths we're facing? That we're in the middle of an incursion with?”

“No,” Tony said, and he wanted to cry. There was a weight, heavy in his pocket. “It's not.”

“Is this—then what are you planning to _do?_ ”

“I'm sorry.” And Tony made a break for it, into Reed's lab, and the machine was already on. The temporal coordinates had worked. In the wall, there was a portal. He saw his lab on the other side, the only way to close this doorway through time and space. 

The world shifted around him, like it was shifting gears, adjusting to its new place in the universe, when he ran through it. He pulled the device from his pocket, pressing the button.

“Tony!” And even though Steve couldn't break through the closing barrier, the sound still carried through. “Tony, there's been a mistake. Let me through! Tony!”

Tony turned around for the last time. “Be safe, Steve.” And because he was a coward, his throat caught. “I love you.” 

When the realization dawned on Steve, his jaw went slack, expression blank.

“No.”Steve reached out and pressed his fingers to the wall between universes. “No!” 

His mouth was moving again, but no sound came through. Tony saw his name on Steve's lips. 

The tears came, more easily than they had when he'd met his mother, when Steve began to pound his fist against the wall. He was shouting, and his face was turning red. For all his beauty, he was a devastatingly ugly crier.

Tony could tell the force that he struck the wall with, the cracks he must be making in the lab on the other side, even though he could feel none of it through this side.

He reached out, and it was like the wall receded before his touch. It filled in the tear between universes, and Steve was panicking, pressing his palm flat to the wall, banging with his other hand.

When Tony's fingers touched the wall, the window to the other side was gone. The room was deathly silent on this side.

He put his ear to the wall, pressing his palm against it, and closed his eyes.

He let his hand run down the wall and let go, but there was nothing behind it, turning back to the empty lab.

He took his first step away and set to work, facing the end of the universe alone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [The art that inspired this!](http://sirsapling.tumblr.com/post/157511300458/why-start-off-soft-when-you-can-just-make-angst) It was originally AA, but I figured that 616 is definitely angsty enough to quality for this. 
> 
> Catch me on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/magicasen)!


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